The Best Gift
by AnimeOtaku4444
Summary: James T. Kirk gets the strangest gift of his entire life, but he never thought he'd actually use it. A certain Vulcan thinks he's giving up everything, but he has no idea just what he's about to gain. And Bones... well, let's just say when all's over and done with, he's going to have a LOT of expensive, rare alien alcohol owed to him. WARNINGS: Spirk, mpreg
1. A Virrian Reward

**AN: Dear bubbles and pops, I'm doing it again. I have once more been seduced by a new fandom. I don't know when I'm going to update my other stories. I can't even guarantee that I'll finish this one. All I can promise you is that you'll enjoy it while it lasts. May the Muses have mercy on my soul.**

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**Prologue:**

God, this couldn't be happening. Stars were flying past the huge window of the Officer's Observation Deck, but they were no more than a blur to him through his tears. This couldn't be real. How could his life have turned into _this_? A tiny nudge, like a little moth was trapped amongst his intestines, made him laugh and sob at the same time.

Oh, this was happening alright. He was so screwed. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? How did he tell… As his sobbing took over, wracking his whole body, he slowly sank to the floor, shaking uncontrollably. He'd never been so scared in his entire life, and with the life he'd had so far, that was really saying something.

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**Chapter One: A Virrian Reward**

Planet Virrin was possibly the most beautiful and peaceful Jim Kirk had ever come across in his two years of Captaincy. Sure, it only got about two Terran hours of sunlight each day, but the planet had nine moons, so it wasn't exactly pitch dark for the other fifteen hours. It might not be the twenty-four hour cycle humans were used to, but the hospitality of the Virrians more than made up for it. Jim thought Virrin might even turn out to be more popular than Risa, given time.

Thank God it hadn't been found by any unfriendly non-Federation aliens yet. The people weren't averse to defending themselves if absolutely necessary, which was frankly a breath of fresh air compared to some of the sheep Jim had met. Sure, most of them were farmers, but many of them hunted for venison as well. These were no timid herbivores. They were even strongly telepathic, so they weren't defenceless, even against enemies with far superior technology to their primitive village-hamlet stage of development.

The only reason they hadn't advanced further was because, strangely enough, mining ores and minerals went against their cultural beliefs. All of their homes, furniture, and tools were made primarily of wood, clay, glass, and river-stones. In other ways they were advanced far beyond what their simple plant-fibre based tunics might suggest. They had astrophysicists capable of impressing Scotty, and Jim had never seen Bones looking so enthusiastic about another world's medical procedures. Some of the medicinal plants the planet had seemed almost magical in their effectiveness.

There was even one floral species which the people had learnt to manipulate into reproducing suitable organs for when one of them needed a transplant, complete with the DNA of the recipient so that it wouldn't be rejected. In one demonstration, a replacement kidney for an injured security ensign was grown within two Terran hours. It was something every blue-shirted crewmember was utterly agog over. A lack of metals and plastics had done nothing to inhibit their academic growth.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about the Virrians was that, reproductively speaking, they were kind of the opposites of Andorians. Instead of having four sexes, they had only one. They were all hermaphrodites. Despite this, they had a lower reproductive rate than humans. Individuals had monthly fertility cycles, much like human females, but this halted for seven years each time they fell pregnant, even though gestation only lasted for eight months.

In addition to this limitation, mature individuals were only fertile for thirty at the most, and children didn't always survive to maturity. Family groups consisted of two or three committed adults, each having a child every seven to nine years, but staggered so that the children were born two to four years apart. The largest family they met had four committed adults and just nine children.

The very first thing the initial landing party had noticed was just how treasured the people's children and pregnant adults were to them. They were fiercely protected, almost revered. Every adult tended to the needs of every child, whether they were related or not. It was clear that they took the saying 'it takes a village' very seriously. When they learnt that most alien species had two sexes, and that males were incapable of pregnancy, the people were absolutely horrified, and wasted no time in expressing their sincerest condolences. Apparently there was no greater gift in their culture than carrying a baby within their bodies.

The mission wasn't without its snags. On the fifth day Jim was exploring the forest when he heard a painfully high-pitched scream. It resonated inhumanly, letting him know it was a local, and probably a child. He hadn't heard any of the adults in the village speak with such a shrill voice. A panic not his own had seeped into his bones, the children didn't have as much control over their telepathy as the adults. Sprinting through the foliage wasn't easy, but he could still feel the child, which had to mean that they were still alive.

Jim burst into a small clearing, and instantly took in the scene. He could just spot a tiny blue-haired head ducking behind a rock outcropping. Doing its utmost to climb the rocks and reach the child was a huge beast. It had short bottle-green fur, and a stubby bobtail, but Jim was more interested in its huge fangs, sharp claws, and powerful-looking leg muscles. It crouched down, obviously preparing to jump. Jim already had his phaser out, set on 'stun'. The first shot only succeeded in getting the creature's attention. "Shit!"

Jim turned up the setting to 'kill' without even glancing down at his weapon, knowing instinctively that if he took his eyes away from the beast for even a split second, he'd be dead. The second shot took the creature down mid-leap as it lunged for the Captain. Jim wasn't sure whether it was dead or not, and he didn't stop to check. He climbed up the rocks as quickly as he could, picked up the small child, and made his way back towards the village. It was slower going than he would've liked, but with a child in one arm and his phaser still in his other hand, the hike was no easy task.

He didn't stop walking until he reached the small village where the rest of his landing party was socialising with the Virrians. Jim didn't put his phaser away until he was passing through the local leader's doorway. The child started to squirm then, so he let it down. The Virrians were a bit short, but it still startled him to realize that the child wasn't much taller than his knees. They immediately ran to the Authority, babbling in the local language. The Universal Translator in his comm did its best, but the strange trills and reverberations, the grammar and sentence structure, was like nothing it had ever had to contend with before.

Jim only got a few disjointed words, but it was clear that the little one was explaining what had happened, and he suspected that the adult, the Authority, was one of the child's biological parents. Later he learnt that the Authority was actually a sibling of the child's birth-parent, but had become the little one's primary caregiver after both its parents had died in an accident. A tree had collapsed on their cottage during a storm. At any rate, the Authority was extremely grateful to Jim, the Enterprise, and the entire Federation. Score one for diplomacy.

That night was one of the stranger ones, for Jim. After a celebration which had been held in his honour, the Authority had insisted that he sleep on the planet's surface rather than beaming back up to the ship like he usually did. Not wanting to dampen the mood, he'd happily agreed, and since it was clearly safe, he'd insisted that the rest of the crew get back aboard. They were due to leave on their next mission in the morning, and there was a great deal of preparation for them all to get done before then.

Jim faintly remembered having dreams which were a magnitude of weird which he hadn't experienced since the last time he'd had an allergic reaction to one of Bones' hypos. When he woke up just after dawn, his head felt fuzzier than usual, and there was a dull ache in his abdomen. His limbs felt like they'd been neatly arranged by somebody, carefully placed in the narrow cot.

Normally he woke up sprawled right across his double bed, hugging his pillow to his chest and drooling on it. He lifted his shirt and inspected his skin, but there wasn't so much as a bruise to explain his discomfort. Eventually he just figured something he'd eaten for supper hadn't agreed with him. It certainly wouldn't be the first time some alien's cuisine had left him with a stomach-ache.

In his distracted state, he didn't notice the suspicious smiles some of the older Virrians kept flashing at him as he politely declined breakfast and called Scotty to beam him aboard. The Enterprise left, Jim felt completely normal by lunch, and he forgot all about it. Besides, if he went to Bones he'd just get half a dozen hypos stabbed into his neck. Sickbay was to be avoided at all costs. Of course there wasn't much choice involved three weeks after their discovery of planet Virrin.

* * *

Spock's eyebrows creased minutely, and he lifted his eyes from the readings on his scanners' screen. What was that smell? He knew he'd come across it before. He lifted his head, subtly scenting the air. There! The heavy smell of iron hit him like a brick to his face. It was human blood, a lot of it, and it was coming from… "Captain! You are bleeding copiously. Lieutenant Sulu, inform Sickbay that the Captain will be arriving in approximately ten minutes, and is severely wounded. You have the con."

The young helmsman nodded sharply, quickly sending the communication directly to Doctor McCoy. Jim slowly stood up from the Captain's chair as Spock hurried towards him. The young Captain fell to his knees, pale and shaking, a frighteningly large smear of blood left on his seat. His regulation black pants were unusually dark, and obviously damp. Spock could tell by the way his throat kept bobbing that Jim was fighting nausea. The Vulcan picked up his Captain in a fireman's lift, carefully avoiding placing any undue pressure near Jim's middle, and swiftly strode into the turbolift.

When Jim tried to struggle and protested feebly, Spock took the most logical course of action available to him. He knocked his Captain out cold with a nerve-pinch. Jim could court-martial him later. Bones was ready and waiting for them when they arrived, he helped Spock lower Jim onto a biobed and instantly begun his scanning. Spock stiffened when he saw Bones freeze and pale at the sight of his readings. "Doctor…" Bones snapped back to the present, and his head whipped around to face Spock.

"Out! Nobody comes in here until I say so!" When the First Officer hesitated, Bones set his mouth in a grim line. "He'll live Spock, but I need to do a full physical exam, and you're not doing him any good by just standing there. Don't you have any work to do on the Bridge?" Spock nodded stiffly, and headed out. As he disappeared through the doorway he called back, "I will expect updates on the Captain's condition every half hour."

Bones huffed, he didn't have time to waste replying to Spock even though he knew the Vulcan's hearing would still be able to pick it up until he'd left Sickbay altogether. He was too focused on Jim, cutting off his pants to find the source of the bleeding. He'd already hooked up an IV with some electrolytes, and hypoed Jim with two doses of a slow-release iron supplement, a dose of antiemetic, and a shot of the only slow-release painkiller Jim wasn't allergic to.

* * *

"Ha ha Bones, that's very funny. Now seriously, what's wrong with me? I don't really think that right now is a good time for jokes." Bones glared at his stubborn patient. "Neither do I. Jim, I know perfectly well that it doesn't make a lick of sense, but the fact remains. You're menstruating." Jim slid off the biobed, swayed slightly, and slumped back against the bed. Bones rolled his eyes whilst he hurried to deactivate the alarms trying to tell him that his patient had just died. "Bones, I don't know if you've noticed this, but I'M A MAN!"

Bones shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Jim, you saw the scan results yourself. Sometime after your last full physical four months ago, you somehow managed to get a womb, two ovaries, and all of the associated plumbing grafted onto the last foot of your small intestines. You might as well be a Virrian, Jim." The Captain's knees gave out, and Bones had to help the stubborn idiot back onto the bed. "The Virrians… Oh God, they did this to me… Bones, The Virrians turned me into one of them! They probably used that weird organ-growing plant of theirs! They made me into a hermaphroditic freak!"

Bones slapped his hysterical friend. "Jim, if you don't calm down right this second, I'm giving you a tranquilizer. You didn't actually lose that much blood, but you're still anaemic." Jim took a few deep breaths. Bones was right, panicking wouldn't get him anywhere. "Is this really what women go through for a whole week, every single month? Fuck, I had no idea what bad-asses they all are. I've found a whole new respect for them." Bones chuckled, patting Jim's shoulder warmly. "I'm sure you have."

Jim glared at him. "What the hell do I do now?" Turning away, tidying his medical equipment now that the emergency was over, Bones answered him. "Listen, I could operate to remove the organs if you want, but if I do any surgery it has to get reported to Starfleet. I'm pretty sure you don't want a hysterectomy on your permanent medical record. I can give you some medications which should make things easier for you, and iron supplements so you don't get anaemic in future. I can also discretely provide you with the necessary hygiene items. It would be a hassle, but nothing a woman can't handle."

The Captain sighed, running a hand over his face. "Wouldn't it be risky? I'm not exactly built to have lady-parts. Besides, what do I do about the Virrians? The Federation was ecstatic to welcome them to the fold. Why the hell did they do this to me?" Bones sighed, and sat on the bed next to his friend. "There shouldn't be any health risks to keeping the extra reproductive system, but I can give you regular check-ups to make absolutely sure. If you decide to lay a formal charge against the Virrians to Starfleet, it would be pretty difficult to keep a lid on that, but I know you probably ain't eager to let them get away with this, either."

Jim went quiet for a minute, thinking over his options. "Get me the Authority from the village our party stayed in. They must have known about it, they were probably the one who ordered it. I need to find out what their motivation was. I'll decide what to do afterwards." Bones nodded, hopped off the bed, and contacted Communications. It took a little while to get through, but then the Authority's face was on the screen of Jim's PADD. The Captain gritted his teeth when the Virrian grinned broadly at him. "Star Authority, you found gift from us."

Jim smiled, but his eyes were hard. "Yeah, you could say that. You know, normally gifts don't involve surgery." The Authority nodded slowly, a habit they'd picked up from the Enterprise's enthusiastic ensigns. "You speak truth. But this gift is best gift, best reward for hero. You save child, now you have own child. Feel child grow inside you, press skin from inside, swell belly. Know when child sleep, when play. Feel child life. Celebrate with mate."

Jim paled, and quickly muted his microphone so the Virrian Authority wouldn't hear his question to Bones. "They didn't actually make me pregnant, did they?" Bones quickly shook his head. "I would've told you if they had. They've only made it possible, but you'd still need a boyfriend." Jim took a deep breath, relieved beyond words. Switching his microphone back on, he addressed the Virrian. "You really don't understand. For me to… use the gift you've given me, I would need to take a male as my mate. That goes against my nature as a male. I feel attraction for women, females. I can't feel lust for males, I will never mate a male."

To the Captain's frustration, the Virrian just smiled knowingly. "Lust will come when you find love, love will come when you find mate. Mate is not male or female, mate is more than just body. Mate is most treasured person, one person you do anything for, one person you never want lose. Maybe you use gift, maybe no, but you have choice." Before Jim could respond, the Virrian ended the call. He wanted to be angry at the alien, he really did. He just couldn't be. Sure, the Virrians had overstepped and conducted an invasive surgery on him, but technically they hadn't hurt him, and they'd honestly had only the best of intentions.

Bones raised a questioning eyebrow at him, forcing Jim to fight back a snicker as he was reminded of Spock. "Leave it, they didn't mean any harm by it. I'll keep the changes, the last thing I need is for somebody to get a hold of my medical records and tell the entire Galaxy I got a hysterectomy. I'm a major celebrity right now, there's a chance of that actually happening." Bones nodded, he'd suspected Jim would go that route.

"What are you gonna tell the crew? The whole Bridge saw you bleeding all over your Captain's chair, and from now on you'll need a lot more check-ups. Whatever you decide to go with, I'll back your story." Jim grinned wryly. "I'll just tell them I had another allergic reaction; Orion cake makes me haemorrhage. I don't like that stuff anyway, it's too sweet. It makes my teeth ache. You'll just have to be a little more discrete about randomly stabbing me with hypos, save the lady-shots for when I'm in my quarters." Bones huffed, a little exasperated, but shook Jim's hand in agreement. Orion cake allergy it was.

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**AN: This is the part where I shamelessly beg for reviews. No, seriously. They're yummier than chocolate. ^_^**


	2. A Vulcan Affliction

**AN: Wow, has it seriously been two whole months since I updated this story? If anyone wants to pelt me with rotten tomatoes for making them wait so long, I will totally understand, but please don't hate me forever. My inspiration is a fickle bitch, but I really am doing my best here. Please enjoy this chapter, I promise you won't have to wait so long for the next one.**

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**Chapter Two: A Vulcan Affliction**

"Commander Spock, we're receiving a message from the High Council of New Vulcan. It's marked 'Urgent' and 'For Vulcan Crew Only'. It looks like the same message is being sent to every ship in the fleet." Spock raised an eyebrow at Uhura. Interesting. "Acknowledged Lieutenant, forward the message to the personal computers and PADDs of all Vulcan crew members with its tags intact." Uhura nodded sharply at him and turned back to her console. "Yes sir." Three seconds later a quiet chime from his PADD let Spock know that the message had come through.

With nothing else demanding his attention for the moment, he opened the message. A second later, he almost wished he hadn't. It was a warning. Apparently the High Council believed that the decimation of their species was triggering Pon Farr in Vulcan males as young as sixteen Earth years, an unprecedented age. The phenomenon was also affecting many older males, those who had been through Pon Farr much less than seven years previously. Spock gripped his PADD tightly enough to crack the strong polymer casing.

This was the last thing his people needed, to be thrown into new marriages and premature bonds, or face death. So many people had lost their fiancés in the destruction of their home world. What about those who couldn't find a new mate in time? What would happen to the Vulcan members of Starfleet who were hit with Pon Farr whilst their ships were too far from New Vulcan to have any hope of reaching the planet before their time ran out? How many more would die for Nero's revenge? How many bonds would be ripped apart this time? It had been months since his control was last tested so terribly. He would need to meditate.

Every person on the Bridge had heard the noise it had made when Spock had damaged his PADD. They were all watching him whilst trying not to be too obvious about it, but Jim was the only one who saw the faint tremble in the Vulcan's hands, and the increase of speed in his First Officer's breathing. "Spock? What's wrong? Did something happen on New Vulcan?" Spock closed his eyes and regained his control before answering. He needed the time to think.

He should tell his Captain that he needed to get to New Vulcan immediately. Over the last two years and seven months, they had slowly become friends. They often ate meals together, or played chess. Jim had proven to be a surprisingly challenging opponent. The friendship had been particularly helpful when Nyota had broken off their relationship, almost a month after the Khan incident, not long after Jim had recovered from his temporary death. Spock was training his Captain in more effective fighting styles, while Jim was teaching him about the art of subtle deception.

Jim had learnt to recognise his dry humour, his subtle teasing and veiled insults, every little irrepressible micro-expression which betrayed his emotions to those who looked for them. Not even his mother had been able to read him quite so well. The way Jim smirked in that subtle, knowing way each time he caught on to what Spock was doing, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief… The warmth Spock felt each time he knew Jim had understood him perfectly, was the only one who'd understood… Spock had found himself becoming far more playful than he usually was, despite how illogical it was.

In turn, Spock had learnt to understand Jim, to see the uncommon level of intellect and cunning which his Captain hid so well beneath his humour and light-hearted attitude. He understood exactly how seriously Jim took his job, and how much every last member of his crew meant to him, how affected he was every time they lost someone. After one mission, when three security ensigns had lost their lives, Spock had spent eighteen hours standing still and silent at Jim's side, on the Officers' Observation Deck, watching the stars rush past the window.

When they went on landing party detail together, especially on the numerous occasions when things went wrong, they knew almost instinctively what the other was thinking, what they would do. They were a seamless team, unstoppable. Jim was no longer the only one of them who occasionally disregarded regulations to keep his friend alive. All life forms were sacred to Spock as a Vulcan, but he found that when a life-form was threatening his Captain's safety, he lost all hesitation he might otherwise have had before firing upon it.

Jim had shown him his favourite places in Georgia, and taken him apartment hunting, tried to make Earth feel like the home it had once been to his mother. Jim had comforted him when certain sights and sounds had triggered memories of Amanda, stories she'd told him about the world she'd come from. When they'd stolen his breath and made him ball his fists as he fought down the waves of pain, Jim had stood quietly by his side, a hand on his shoulder unconsciously radiating calm and support, looking away so Spock could take the time he needed to regain his composure.

If he asked Jim to trust him as a friend, to let him leave the Enterprise without asking questions, then the Captain would acquiesce no matter how little he liked being denied details. Only, if he were to leave his Captain without his First Officer on such short notice, it would be a considerable inconvenience for the ship. Also, if he had to arrange private transport it would take him at least three months to reach New Vulcan. If he went into Pon Farr within the next two months and three weeks, he would die before he reached his destination.

The Enterprise could get him there in a third of that time, but they were currently committed to a vital mission bringing emergency supplies to a distant colony. As the fleet's fastest, the Enterprise was the only ship which could reach the planet in time to avert disaster. But even if the Enterprise abandoned that mission to go to New Vulcan, he still might not reach the planet in time. There were other factors to take into consideration. Right now every potential mate was a highly valuable resource. As a possibly sterile hybrid, did he have any right to take a mate?

His family's status was considerable, especially given that he'd ensured the High Council's survival during Nero's attack, he wouldn't be denied a mate. However, he couldn't ignore the possibility that taking one would, logically speaking, be doing a disservice to his people. As he was half human, there was no guarantee that Pon Farr would affect him, and if it did… Well, it might be better to let it end him. Until it did, he would spend whatever time he had left on the Enterprise, fulfilling his duties, surrounded by people who were glad to have him among them.

That was his decision, but he would not make the same one for the other members of their crew. At least if they travelled for New Vulcan together, if one of them went into Pon Farr on the way there, then there would be potential mates available to them. "Captain, all of our Vulcan crewmembers aside from myself must be granted leave immediately, to take private transportation to New Vulcan."

The Captain frowned, openly concerned. He stood, and walked over to his Science Officer's station. "What's this about, Spock? Why do all my Vulcans need to join the colony all of a sudden? You didn't answer me when I asked if something had happened." Spock stood slightly straighter, and shifted his weight very slightly to favour the foot closer to his console. Jim recognized the gesture, Spock was uneasy.

"As the matter is of a highly personal nature, I cannot discuss the details with you. I shall need you to accept my word on this. The paid leave has already been approved by Starfleet at the request of Ambassador Sarek." Jim took a half-step back, blown away by Spock's words. In the entire time they'd been friends, this was the first time Spock had ever asked him to trust him implicitly like that. If Starfleet had already approved it, then who was he to press Spock for details he clearly didn't need?

There might have been a time when he would've enjoyed making Spock uncomfortable just because he could, but those days were long over now. "Of course, we'll drop them off at the nearest Starbase. It should only delay us by a couple of hours; I think we can spare that for an emergency." Spock nodded subtly. "That would be the most logical course of action; the matter is highly time-sensitive." The Captain smiled at him, confident that he'd just been complimented. Well, the compliment had been implied, but coming from Spock that counted as high praise. "You sure you won't be joining them? You're a Vulcan too."

Warmth bloomed in Spock's side and the tips of his ears, and his eyes felt the tiniest bit moist. He didn't understand his physiological reaction, or why he was suddenly reminded of Stonn and the other boys who'd attempted to illicit emotional responses from him in his school days. It almost felt as though a soothing balm had been applied to a very old, permanently inflamed wound. Perhaps he should consult Doctor McCoy. "I am only half Vulcan, Captain. My presence will not be required." Jim's smile slipped away, and he nodded solemnly in acknowledgement.

* * *

Darci-beta was absolute chaos. The people were minutes from full-out rioting, those who weren't still desperately tending to their dying stock or their withered fields. Every member of the medical department began administering medication to the people and animals which would help them recover now that there was food for them. Security personnel distributed food and blankets, whilst the Engineering department set up water-purification equipment and temporary shelters. Communications co-ordinated the effort, and kept Starfleet updated on the situation.

The mission only took five days in total, but when they left it was with a deep sense of satisfaction. Only two critically ill colonists had died, and a few farm animals. The Intrepid would be arriving in a month to handle the more long-term assistance Darci-beta would require. All things considered, their trip was a huge success. They'd even saved the colony from a Klingon invasion on the fourth day, just before they were due to leave.

Spock had given the enemy's computers a virus which made the colony invisible to their ship's scanners. The Captain didn't miss the way Spock had straightened slightly with pride and pleasure when Jim proclaimed him an absolute genius for his sly move. When Kirk used his classic 'Corbomite Manoeuvre' to scare them off, the almost-smile Spock had rewarded his Captain's craftiness with had made Jim feel ten feet tall. The Enterprise came out of it without so much as a scratch.

* * *

Trembling fingers typed out line after line of code, faster than most eyes would be able to follow. The sickbay doors locked; the lights went out. McCoy was off-duty; the beta-shift crew were busy on deck 7 with the false alarm which had been pre-arranged. The soft lights on the buttons of the neuroscanner were more than sufficient for the intruder to see by, and the scan was completed within minutes. The results were tucked away inside a uniform before all record of the scan was erased from the computer's memory banks. The shadow was gone long before the medical staff returned.

Back in their personal quarters, the intruder took out the scan's results and held them up to the light. When their hand wouldn't stop shaking, they put the images down on their desk, slumping heavily against the sturdy furniture. The pictures swam in and out of focus, but the results were clear enough. Positive. It had begun; there wasn't much time left. They took a deep breath, and sank into the chair. Tomorrow they would say their goodbyes, then end it. They didn't want to be remembered the way they would be if they waited any longer.

* * *

"Hey Jim, can I have a moment to talk with you?" Jim nodded at his friend, and led him to a small table at the back of the cafeteria far away from any other patrons. "Sure Bones, we can talk over coffee. What's the matter?" Bones looked concerned, the way he usually did when he wasn't sure one of his patients would survive, but as far as Jim knew there weren't any critical patients in sickbay that morning. "Is it just me, or has Spock been acting strange lately? I mean, have you noticed anything different about him?"

Jim frowned, he had been about to reply in the negative when he'd realised that he couldn't. He _had_ seen Spock acting a little unusual during their last shift together. Spock was always great about helping ensigns, and giving them practical advice, but yesterday Spock had been talking to Chekov, and the way he'd been talking... It had been like listening to a teacher talking to their favourite student on the last day before the teacher retired.

All of the advice had been about how Chekov could maximise his learning in the years to come, and tutor himself without a mentor's assistance. He'd thought nothing of it, until he'd heard Spock having a similar discussion with two of his most promising Science ensigns. If it had just been that, maybe he could've ignored it. Nobody else would have seen it, and maybe he should pretend that he hadn't either out of respect for Spock, but if Bones had picked up on it too...

Spock had been jumpy lately, irritable and more stern than usual. Jim had seen the Vulcan in a foul mood a couple of times before, but it was very rare for it to get so bad that any other crew members noticed it. Also, he'd only seen it twice, out of the corner of his eye, but he could've sworn he'd seen Spock's left hand trembling. Perhaps the strangest thing was that he'd overheard Uhura, as they'd left the Bridge at the end of their shift, telling a yeoman that Spock had given her one of his rare Vulcan relics, saying he no longer had any use for it.

Apparently she though he was trying to win her back, but Jim knew for a fact that Spock no longer had any interest in her. They'd discussed it over several games of chess, and Spock rarely lied. Besides, why would he lie about something like that? He'd brought it up during the game they'd played after their last shift, come to think of it, but Spock had simply said that he didn't wish to discuss it.

He'd been pretty quiet the whole game actually, but when Jim had beat him with a new move, Spock had looked a bit rueful and said, "I'd hoped this win would make us even, and instead you are leading by two points now. Well, at least no-one can say that there is any dishonour in losing to you, Captain." His usual farewells before leaving Jim's cabin had sounded... more permanent than they usually did. Jim could remember feeling a little disquieted, and he'd been inexplicably relieved when he'd spotted Spock on his way to breakfast that morning.

Any one of those incidents on their own wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but when they all occurred on a single day, Jim had to wonder. What the heck was going on with Spock? "You're right Bones, something doesn't feel right. After shift today I'll have a talk with him, see if I can find out what's going on. Maybe it has something to do with whatever we had to send twenty-three of our crew members to New Vulcan for. It never sat well with me that he didn't go with him. Maybe it secretly irked him too."

Bones nodded, and his expression relaxed, immediately reassured that all would be okay. Nobody understood Spock like Jim did, if anybody could get through to the android-like Vulcan, it would be him. They finished their drinks together, changing the topic to make light-hearted small talk as the cafeteria filled up around them. When their coffee was finished they changed seats to join their friends for a proper breakfast before their next shift began. Jim even tried a small salad to cheer Bones up, even though he only ate half of it.

* * *

When the Captain walked onto the Bridge and his First Officer wasn't at his console, his throat tightened and his whole body stiffened as every instinct in his body screamed at him that something was _very_ wrong. In the two and a half years that they'd been serving together, Spock had _always_ been the first Officer at his post, and the last to leave. Every single time, without exception. The only time that hadn't held true had been when the Vulcan was taking the most minimal amount of sick leave Bones would let him get away with because he'd been injured during a landing mission.

Jim knew Spock wasn't in sickbay today, he hadn't been injured in the last five weeks now, and Bones would have told him at breakfast if Spock had come in for some kind of illness. Without even stepping out of the turbolift, he pushed the 'close doors' button, and then the button for the deck where the Officers had their quarters. He drummed his fingers on his thigh impatiently as the lift moved.

When the doors opened what felt like many minutes later, but could only have been seconds, Jim ran straight past his own cabin and entered the Captain's emergency override code to unlock Spock's door. The door hissed open, and time froze. Spock was in his quarters, sitting cross-legged and shirtless on his meditation mat, holding a dagger to his abdomen. Jim knew from bitter experience that Spock's heart was directly beneath the blade. He heard a shout, not realising that it was his own, and ran forward.

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**AN: Dear me, what's with the cliffhangers lately? I think they must like me. Well, maybe if I get lots of reviews I won't take too long to let you know whether Kirk makes it in time to save Spock or not. *evil maniacal laughter* Oh, and reviewers get free hugs and cookies.**


	3. A Valiant Offer

**AN: I totally intended to post this on Monday, but we've been moving all our computer stuff around in preparation for a new desk, and our internet has been down since Friday. As if that doesn't suck enough, just after I'd finished writing chapter _four_, I accidentally saved a much older version of Best Gift over the one I'd just been working on, and lost all my hard work. The only restore point was from a _week_ ago. I lost just over 5000 words. *sobs* **

**It was hard work, but I've finally finished re-writing this chapter, and to make up for leaving you on that cliffhanger for so long I've made it a little longer than the first two. I hope you enjoy, and _please_ review. I really hate re-writing anything, I usually just abandon stories when something like that happens, but all of the great reviews I got for 'A Vulcan Affliction' kept me going. I still have to re-write chapter four, so I still need plenty of encouragement.**

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**Chapter Three: A Valiant Offer**

Jim yanked the knife from Spock's hand by the blade, not even feeling it as his own hands were sliced open by the keen edge, and dropped the dagger into a small emergency airlock which he'd had Scotty install in every cabin after a mission when such a thing might have saved two lives. He didn't start breathing again until the blade was drifting in space, and the airlock had been shut on both ends. He turned, and found Spock standing, staring at him with wide eyes.

A wave of anger and fear washed over him, a volatile combination. He stepped over to the Vulcan in four swift strides, punched him as hard as he could in the jaw, then hugged him so tightly that the poor man was probably having trouble breathing. "You stupid bastard! What the fuck were you thinking?" Then there was panic, what if he hadn't really made it in time? Jim pulled back just enough to make sure that there wasn't so much as a scratch on Spock's side, frantically running his hands over the pale green skin, staining it red as he let the hummingbird vibrations reassure him that Spock was unharmed.

Spock pushed him away forcefully, his breathing slightly laboured. "Jim I am not hurt, please calm down." Jim's expression hardened. "Don't you _dare _tell me to fucking calm down Spock, do you hear me?" Spock nodded, and Jim began to pace, running a hand over his mouth, leaving more smears of wet red blood. He was shaking as he came down from the adrenaline rush, and his skin was flushed from the rather warm temperature most Vulcans liked to keep their quarters at. "What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? What the fuck were you thinking?" Spock looked unsure, but Jim was having none of it. "TELL ME!"

Spock took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Jim, I am already dying. There is nothing anyone can do. If I end it now, I can die with my dignity as a Vulcan intact. If I wait... If I let my condition kill me, then that will not be possible. Allow me this, as my friend." Jim shook his head in denial. "No, we'll call Bones. He'll fix you, I know he will, he's saved people a thousand times." Spock sighed, but he didn't shake his head. He wasn't that far gone yet. "He hasn't saved them from this, Jim. Nobody ever has. The only treatment is limited to New Vulcan, which is why all our other Vulcans had to leave before."

Jim glared at him, not even needing to ask out loud why the hell Spock hadn't gone with them. "They might still make it in time, but I won't. I wouldn't have even if I'd left with them, I'd still be at least three weeks away. This condition will kill me in a third of that time." Jim shook his head. Not good enough. "Couldn't any of them have helped you? I know for a fact that at least two of them were part of our medical department. What's so special about New Vulcan that you couldn't be cured anywhere else?"

Spock turned aside. This wouldn't be easy for him to say, but it would be even harder for Jim to hear. "It's true, they probably could have helped me. If any of them fall ill during their journey, they should be able to help each other. But as pure-blooded Vulcans they are far more valuable to the colony than I could ever be. I did not want their help, it would've been illogical for me to go with them." Jim looked a little confused now, but far more than that, he looked like he wanted to punch Spock again. He might be half Vulcan, but Jim still had one hell of a right hook.

"As a half human, I had hoped I would be spared this condition, but even though I wasn't I do not regret my decision. When I die, I shall do so on a ship filled with people who have accepted me, whose respect I have earned. Some of the crew could even be called my friends. On New Vulcan they may be grateful to me for my actions during Nero's assault, but they have never truly accepted me, and not one of them would ever consider me to be their friend. It is better this way. Please, allow me to die with dignity. I don't have much time left, my control is weakening exponentially."

Jim of all people knew that there were some things which were even worse than death. For Spock, losing his control in front of their crew was one of those things. Still, he was a Kirk. He did not believe in no-win scenarios. If there was anywhere off New Vulcan where this affliction could be cured, then it would have to be the Enterprise. They performed miracles on a weekly basis, and Jim was determined for this to be their next one. The word 'impossible' was not in his crew's vocabulary, and it was time Spock remembered that.

"Spock, you know what's wrong with you, and you know how Vulcans cure this sickness. If it's a telepathy thing, then we're only two days from the nearest planet with friendly telepaths. If it's something else, then it should be nothing Bones can't handle. I don't care what it takes, but I am not letting you die. I am officially ordering you not to try to end your own life. If you disobey me, I swear to God I will find you in the afterlife and kick your sorry ass." Spock lifted an eyebrow drolly. Vulcans didn't believe in an afterlife.

"You can choose to co-operate and make things go faster, so you can keep some of your control, or you can be a stubborn idiot and let the whole crew watch you lose it. I really don't care either way, but I know you do. Help me figure this out Spock. What's going on? I know you said before that it was something personal for Vulcans, but I'm way past caring at this point. I trust you with my life Spock, and I know you trust me with yours. I am begging you, trust me with this."

Spock sighed, sat heavily on his bed, and indicated with a glance that Jim should join him. Jim snatched up the room's first aid kit from where it was mounted on the wall, before grabbing a chair from the small table in the corner. He dumped the chair in front of Spock, spun it around, and straddled it, dropping the first aid kit into his lap. He took out an antiseptic roll-on glue stick to clean his wounds and stop the bleeding, a poor replacement for stitches, but it would do in a pinch. When he'd applied enough layers to stem the blood, he used the dermal regenerator on each palm.

The small commercial device wasn't nearly as good as the ones they had in medbay, but he'd be damned if he left Spock's quarters before he got his explanation. Besides, he wasn't quite ready to have to explain to Bones just how he'd gotten the injuries. When his hands were as good as they were going to get, he tried some basic exercises Bones had taught him once, such as touching each finger to his thumb, bending and extending each digit, to make sure there was no nerve damage.

He'd been lucky. Aside from some numbness in his left pinky from an accident which had happened almost a year ago, and some general tenderness, his hands would be just fine. Satisfied, he packed up the kit and put it down on the floor next to his chair, then crossed his arms on the top of the backrest and gave Spock his full attention. His eyes were burning with determination. Spock had to struggle to get the image out of his mind, of Jim straddling _him_ the way he was that chair, before he could begin.

"First, you must understand that Vulcans very rarely talk of this, even amongst themselves. It is a highly uncomfortable subject for us, and I would appreciate it if nothing I told you from this point on were to leave this room." Jim nodded solemnly. "I understand. I'll do my very best to respect that. I just can't make any promises where Bones is concerned." Spock smiled at Jim's honesty, and nodded in acceptance. "Very well. What I am experiencing is called Pon Farr. It affects every male Vulcan, usually starting at the age of thirty, and occurring every seven years thereafter."

Jim's brow creased in confusion. He'd never heard of an illness which struck in definitive cycles like that. Besides, wouldn't that make Spock far too young to get it? He was nowhere near thirty years old yet. "The urgent message we received from New Vulcan was a warning. It is believed that the decimation of our population is causing Pon Farr to occur in males far earlier than it normally would, and even in males who suffered from it less than seven years previously. Our Vulcan crew had to return so they could be bonded in preparation."

Jim interrupted by raising an index finger. "Spock, I'm not quite sure I understand. What it Pon Farr exactly? How does being bonded fix it, and not being bonded condemn you to death?" The pointed tips of Spock's ears became bright green, and he went quiet for a minute. Finally, he seemed to collect himself enough to answer. "The way my mother explained it to me when I was old enough to understand, was that, just like certain animal species, Vulcans 'go into heat' as Terrans say." Jim gaped blankly at him. Vulcans do what now? Spock was _in heat_? Well. That certainly explained a few things.

Spock hesitated again, but continued. "There is another reason why our Vulcan crew needed to return to the colony. When Pon Farr first begins, a powerful urge to return to your father's land becomes increasingly difficult to ignore. It is much like the instinct salmon have, to return to the exact place where they were spawned. I've heard of as many as three men taking shuttles with their bonded, and flying them to the exact point in space where their father's land on Vulcan used to be. Others have commandeered vessels, and later had no memory of doing so. It would be too dangerous to allow them to remain on Starfleet vessels."

Jim had never heard of a species that could die from going into heat, but very little could surprise him at this point. He'd seen weirder things. Hell, he was pretty weird himself these days thanks to the Virrians. "So basically, you really need to have sex; you'll die if you don't; and you need to be bonded to whoever it is first? Why is that exactly?" Spock squirmed slightly, his ears and cheeks still flushed green. "During mating at least one mind meld must take place. In his state, if there is no preliminary bond to guide the afflicted male's way, he will attempt to force his way through the mind, often doing irreversible harm to it."

Jim winced, that didn't sound the least bit pleasant. So, the being bonded part was pretty important then. Dammit, Jim had been hoping that just anyone would do, but it made sense for a telepathic species. "Once Pon Farr has begun it is too late, they will not have the control necessary to form a new bond without the assistance of a healer, which I do not have at my disposal. After the fourth day, which I am currently on, even a healer cannot help."

Jim squared his shoulders, and asked what he really needed to know. It didn't matter that he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. "What happens then, after day four, if you still haven't mated?" Spock couldn't meet his eyes. "At that point delirium begins to set in, accompanied by uncontrollable aggression. After the sixth day I will swiftly deteriorate until death occurs, due to acute sleep deprivation, dehydration, and malnutrition. Pon Farr puts extreme stress on the body. To ensure that this problem does not occur, Vulcans are traditionally betrothed at seven years of age."

Jim's eyebrows shot up, he never had learned how to lift just the one. He'd never really thought about how Vulcans decided who to marry, he'd just assumed that they picked whoever they felt was the most logical choice. Spock continued. "At that time, a healer puts a preliminary bond in place, which is really the entire purpose of the ceremony. My fiancé was a girl named T'Pring. She was chosen by my father, and I always got the sense that she did not truly want to be betrothed to me. It no longer matters, she was one of the many who died during Nero's assault. I never bonded with anyone else."

Jim wasn't sure whether or not he should feel sad for Spock's loss. He got the sense that Spock felt much the same way. "On New Vulcan there are no doubt women who would be willing to join with my family, we still hold considerable status, perhaps even more than we held before the loss of Vulcan, but it would be doing a disservice to my people." Jim looked completely bemused. "How could you getting engaged be doing the Vulcans a disservice?"

Spock looked away now, unable to meet Jim's kind eyes. "My genetics are not purely Vulcan. It didn't matter when there were millions of us, but now we are an endangered species. As a hybrid, I may even be sterile. Logically speaking, it would be too selfish of me to take a mate, even if it means that I shall die." He glanced back at Jim, and almost wished he hadn't. His Captain looked like he wanted to punch him again. "_Fuck_ your logic Spock! Couldn't you have thought of _something_? You could have bonded with a human, like Uhura. Your dad married a human. Or did he have a Vulcan friend who helped him out every seven years?"

Spock growled, sounding more like a pissed off Rottweiler than a First Officer or a Chief Science Officer. "My father _never_ betrayed his mate! I will not tolerate such a shameful accusation! The 'k' in my name was given to me because I was born of Pon Farr! It is considered an honour!" Jim held up his hands in an instinctive placating gesture. "Sorry Spock, I didn't mean to accuse your dad of anything. I just can't understand why you didn't bond with a human the second you got that warning from New Vulcan. Uhura is still your friend, she would have agreed to it if you'd explained why it was necessary."

Spock bristled, he did not appreciate his family being insulted. And what was so wrong about not wanting to bond with anyone who was against bonding with him? "I had thought once to bond with Nyota, but my mind was reluctant to accept hers. I would have required the assistance of a healer, and they most likely would have advised against the match. I believe it was a large part of the reason for why she ended our personal relationship." Jim looked curious now, in that sharp, relentless way of his. "Why didn't your mind want to accept hers? I've heard of Vulcans having that problem before, but I never really understood it."

Spock shifted uneasily, his anger suddenly gone. Why had he brought this up in the first place? He didn't want Jim to take his next words the wrong way, but he had little doubt that Jim would understand. "My mind considered her presence an intrusion, which isn't uncommon, but we weren't incompatible. My mind rejected hers because I was already bonded with someone, although I did not wish to be." Jim just stared at him blankly. Well, Spock would take 'blank' over 'accusing' any day.

"The creation of a bond almost always requires a mind meld and some effort, but there are exceptions. Rarely, there will be a pair who need only make the slightest skin-on-skin contact to form a bond. These individuals are known as T'hy'la. They are friends and brothers, they know each other as intimately as lovers, they are destined for each other by the old gods. The closest word in Standard would be 'soulmates'. I had never imagined that I might have one, but I was wrong. I met mine, and a bond was unintentionally formed. Even though it should not have been possible for her, I believe that Nyota knew I was meant for another."

Now Jim looked confused again. "Wait a second, I thought the whole reason you were sick was because you lost your engagement bond to T'Pring, but now you're telling me that you have a bond like that with your soulmate? Shouldn't you be cured then?" Spock shook his head subtly. "The bond is the cure, not the cause of the sickness, but in this case I cannot make use of it. My T'hy'la is unaware of the bond, and would not be glad to learn of it."

Jim clenched his jaw, his stubbornness shining through. "How can you be so sure of that? I'm calling her in here right now, and you're going to tell her what you just told me. If she's the only one who can help you, then I guarantee she'll do it." Spock squared his shoulders in response. "You cannot do that Captain." Jim snorted. "Oh really? Why is that, huh Spock? What aren't you telling me? I can tell you're hiding something."

Spock gritted his teeth, but there was no point in keeping secrets anymore. They wouldn't do him any good in his grave. "You cannot call _her_ here because my T'hy'la is not a woman, and they are already present. _You_ are my T'hy'la, Jim. There is far more to being bonded than just procreation, sixty-seven percent of all recorded T'hy'la bonds are between same-gendered individuals. Vulcans have never attached any stigma to such pairings the way humans often do."

A vicious thrill of satisfaction shot through Spock when he saw Jim's mouth drop open in surprise. "I never told you because I knew that you would not welcome it, but we were always meant to spend our lives at each others side. I was content to do so as your friend and colleague for as long as you and circumstances would allow, and I am grateful to have had that much with you until now. It was more than anything I had ever known, and I hadn't realised just how much I needed it. My only regret is that it will end so soon."

Jim looked like Spock had just hit him over the head. With a brick. The half-Vulcan's expression softened, wishing he hadn't been so blunt. "I know you, Jim. I knew that if you were aware of the situation, if you knew that there was nobody else who could save me, you would most likely offer your assistance. You have already sacrificed your life for me, I can not allow you to do this for me as well. I owe you at least that much."

A wave of fury crashed over Jim, hitting him like a tsunami. He got up from the chair and kicked it aside, knocking it onto its side, and crowded his First Officer, forcing Spock to crane his neck to look up at him. "You're right Spock, I died for many people that day, and you were one of them. I died so that what was left of my crew could have good long lives, not so I could be woken by the shriek of some poor yeoman who'd just discovered your body _one room away_! Not so I could see the angle of the wound, and the lack of signs of a struggle, and _know_ that it was self-inflicted! Not so I could have new _nightmares_ about smelling _copper_!"

It was times like this when Spock cursed the vivid imagination all humans seemed to come equipped with. He could see the scene as Jim had described it, as clearly as though it were reality. "You do owe me Spock, you owe it to me to _live_, so if the one person in the whole damn Universe who can help says that they'll save you, no matter what it might take, you will damn well let them, even if that person is me! That is an order! If you try to kill yourself again, so help me God, I will find you again someday when it's my turn, and I will kick your sorry ass!"

Spock growled low in the back of his throat, a warning. "You do not know what you are offering to do. I will not take it slow, and I will not be gentle. In all likelihood I will make you bruised and bloody. For most Vulcans it only takes one time, but there are many who require as many as three straight days of mating to make their Pon Farr subside. We would not sleep, eat, drink, or leave the bed for any reason, until it was over. It would be a test of stamina the likes of which even_you _have never known. Knowing this, you would still be willing?"

Jim grabbed a rough fistful of Spock's hair and yanked his head back even further. It was something he liked to do towards the end of a good brawl, when he had his opponent defeated and on the ground, and his blood was still burning through his veins with the adrenaline rush. If the guy's nose wasn't broken yet, at this point it was about to be. Did Spock seriously think the threat of blood and bruises would be enough to scare off James T. Kirk? He would survive it. That was more than enough for him. "Oh, I _insist_."

There was a blur of movement, and suddenly Jim found himself on his back on Spock's bed, the half-Vulcan looming over him ominously with a predatory smirk on his lips. "Very well, Captain. Computer, set door lock to Paladin Alpha, and alert Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott that Captain Kirk and myself are taking five days of emergency leave for personal reasons, making him the Acting Captain in the interim." He didn't wait for the inevitable 'Yes, Commander' before tearing off Jim's golden shirt and biting the startled human's shoulder hard enough to draw blood.

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**AN: I hope you liked this one, a lot of effort went into it. I even got my big sister, BoekOtaku, to beta. Please review! I wasn't kidding about how much I hate re-writing, so Chapter 4 is depending on you guys.**


	4. Short AN, please read!

Hi guys!

First, I just want to say DO NOT PANIC! I have _not_ abandoned this story. I'm taking part in NaNoWriMo, so I'm super busy at the moment. As soon as the insanity has died down, I will be posting the next chapter ASAP. You guys have been so incredibly awesome with your reviews, I just had to take the time to let you know that there will absolutely be a chapter four. It's mostly written already, but I wanted to add in some more smut at the beginning. You guys deserve it for all the love you've been sending my way. I cannot tell you how much I truly appreciate it. *hugs*

You'll see me soon!


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